


A Spiral into the Owl Den

by Awacee3



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Animal Death, Death, Descriptions of animal death, Gen, Moomin: depression and existential crisis edition!, and emotions, just a warning, uh this is about MORTALITY
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:01:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28068993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awacee3/pseuds/Awacee3
Summary: Their little discussion the other day had left his mind completely. Somewhere deep down he knows something is wrong, why can't Snufkin reciprocate the help he desired? But why dwell on it when going back to normal was so pleasant? If he simply ran down to the bridge and acted as if nothing was off surely they would have a marvelous day of trivial fun, the sort that would streak his fur with mud or seawater and any thoughts about little birds or great aunts would not matter.
Relationships: Mumintrollet | Moomintroll & Snusmumriken | Snufkin
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	A Spiral into the Owl Den

Halfway through spring on an early morning Moomintroll finds himself out the side door inspecting the families ice box. It had been left out the night before, he'd accompanied his father out for a long day of fishing and had only returned late into the night. Instead of lugging the large box into the cellar or inside his father had told him to leave it pressed up against the stairs.

"It's still quite cold out at night, son. What's say we head to bed instead?" The offer was quickly taken up, both being tired from their long day and getting their gear and icebox back to the house from the bathhouse. The large amount of fish would be cooked by Mama the next morning; or made into broth to be stored for the rest of the season. However, it seems they may be short on broth this year as the box had now been snapped open on one side, a plethora of fish bits left in its wake.

Of course his overactive mind jumps to _there must be a thief about_. His disappointment at the loss of his and his fathers hard work is blanketed by the excitement of an investigation, even if he already knows the most likely culprit. Though he comes to realise he hadn't seen Stinky around in some time but this does not exclude him, his next bet would be Snufkin, who's known for both his likeness of fish and petty crime, but stealing from Moomin and his family is not something he'd do, especially in such a messy way.

His thoughts are interrupted by his parents coming out the side door and his fathers insistence it was most likely just an owl who had gotten into the ice box. Upon inspecting the box up closer the small marks and chips along the wood make sense.

"I bet he and his friends had a right feast" Papa exclaims, obviously annoyed, for not only was their day of fishing wasted but they'd also need a new icebox.

Moomintroll looks on, it makes sense and is a better scenario than a thief being loose in the valley but something within him thinks it would have been more exciting.

\---

Come Wednesday the next week a letter arrives in the mailbox by the stream, adorned with an official-looking stamp from somewhere far off south. It comes to notify them of Moominpapa's distant aunts passing; containing a small inheritance sum and an address to claim an old phonograph; most likely left behind from other cousins, aunts, or uncles who had already stripped her old house bare. However, Moominpapa's relationship with his distant family was never very strong and therefore the family put forth no effort to claim the old music player and instead stored the small stack of bank notes among handkerchiefs and hand towels for they knew little of where one would usually store their money.

Moominpapa admits he knew little of his great aunt although they still think of her, as one should for someone who has passed on. Moomin does not know exactly what to think; he supposes he should be quite sad as she was his family although he finds his feelings aren’t that hurt.

_Does that make him a bad person?_

\---

Following this occurrence, he cannot shake that there is something wrong with him. It's not only this situation either, last autumn he fears he had destroyed any chance of a close relationship with Snorkmaiden. He felt he did not have the maturity, bravery, or confidence she looked for in a man. No, he was awkward and stumbled over his words, and anything he said confidently usually came out wrong.

_"Oh fair Snorkmaiden I could compare thee to a pale beaked bird!"_

His sonnet into her comparison to a swan had not gone over well and had ended with nothing more than an awkward lunch paired with quick glares. Deciding it was best for them to take a break was simple; executing it was the trickier part which had led to an emotionally-fueled outburst on both ends.

Following this he retreated back to his safer relationship with Snufkin. There was no doubt in his mind they would always be the best of friends, after going through so much together and hardly ever arguing surely they would never fall out. The only issue being lately he felt there was a gaping hole slowly eating up this connection, Snufkin never spoke to him emotionally and when faced with Moomins fallout with Snorkmaiden only continued to speak in his riddles about the world and it's unfairness.

Whilst this impressed him when they were young it was becoming apparent Snufkin had a clear dislike for any subject pertaining to negative emotions or openness. He probably views Moomins occasional domestics with Snorkmaiden to be nothing more then childish rows. Perhaps he'd take his current sentiments more seriously, as they were not so simple or easily conceived   
\---  
He finds him down by the beach sitting along rocks with his line cast out.

"It's best not to dwell on these things to much Moomintroll, especially if they bother you so much" He can't say he's surprised at Snufkins advice, and he wishes it were as simple as he says. "I do! Last night I tried reading or drawing, I even let Little My play target practice with me." He had honestly hoped maybe she'd throw something hard enough into his head he'd forget his troubles.

Snufkin just looks down towards the water, seemingly unbothered by Moomins inner turmoil, like it was just another one of his occasional over reactions. "I just... Feel like maybe I'm doing something wrong. Oh Snufkin what do you do when you want to get your mind off something unpleasant?"

He looks back up towards him now, "I take a walk in the forest or sometimes I just tell myself not to think about it and I don't."

Again, he remains unsurprised by the answer. He looks into Snufkins eyes and cannot find anything that may suggest he's being anything but bluntly honest. He's unsure what to say, Snufkin hasn't suggested anything truly helpful to him, and his disappointment at his friends reply must have been apparent.

"Moomintroll I'm not sure what you want me to tell you, I know it must be hard to loose someone from your family it might just take time."

Oh now he understands. Snufkin just thought he was emotional from his great aunts death, that makes sense as Snufkin was not one he expects to understand family matters well. Should he tell him that her death actually hadn't bothered him that much? Or would that make him appear cold and uncaring? He realizes now that Snufkin was giving him a strange look, waiting for his reply. "I guess so" he says.

He decides he'd rather try another way then sit though any more silence. "What about when you feel the opposite of what you should?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like something happens that you should be happy about, but instead you feel sad."

"What's making you sad?" His friends complete miss almost makes him laugh although he cannot lie the concern makes him feel slightly lighter. "Apart from the obvious you mean?" he replies.

"Yes but death isn't something you would normally be happy about in the first place now is it."

Moomin begins to think they're going in circles, and pushes down the urge to completely burst with all his thoughts. "Suppose I'm just asking about something else."

"Oh, I guess it depends on what it is."

He grips the grass below his paws tighter, he shouldn't be surprised though at his response. He truly loves Snufkin but cannot fathom how emotionally dense he can be sometimes. "But what if maybe one day you were hungry and you caught a fish but then it slipped off the hook, and for some reason you felt happy what would you think about it?" He doesn't want to give away what exactly it is he's feeling yet but cannot grasp the right words to say. "Like obviously you should be sad but you're just not."

"Maybe I could be happy for the fish? That he gets to swim through the ocean for another day."

"Yes but what if the feelings don't make sense at all."

He turns towards Moomin now fully "If you don't want to feel that way then why not simply forget it? There's no point dwelling on some things Moomintroll."  
He realizes then that he's not going to get anywhere and his frustration has only built up. Why doesn't he realize that he can't just forget? "I guess I can try..."  
\---  
With that conversation obviously over he wanders back toward the forest track, he doesn’t want to return home yet, and fears his Mama would notice the way his eyes were beginning to pinch; forcing tears from dripping down his snout.

The natural scenery eases his predicament and over time his face relaxes as he lets in the sights around him, and tries to forget whatever had happened since he woke this morning. He treks off a path to venture into a whitebeam shrub to retrieve some flowers to take home to Mama when something poking out of the grass catches his eye.

It was a little thing, wings bent out of place with an uncanny face staring up at him. Even without seeing its wrangled body he could tell there was something off by its face alone though he could never say what, maybe it was its frozen eyes or that the only movement was from feathers rustled by the wind, rather than tiny muscles or bones.

It had obviously been gotten by some larger animal, but the appearance of most of its body indicates it was most likely more for fun than food. Something about the way it's strewn about reminds him of the fish from the icebox.

Something was stirring within him though he tried to wish it back into place. This was not the first time he'd wandered along a little dead animal and it would never be the last, so why did he feel as though his chest may cave in? Maybe the news of his distant great aunt? However he'd never met her and admittedly felt no personal pain from the news. It made no sense to connect her to a tiny bird, he could never compare a birds life to his family, people live much more complex lives than little creatures. But who was he to say it's worth any less? These are the types of thoughts plaguing him and he decides it would be best to not think at all.

After snapping from his strange mental reprieve he came to realize he'd been staring the poor little thing in the eyes the entire time. He quickly brushed aside some debris and knocked it in before burying it and placing small stones around the mound in a circle, an impromptu funeral is better than none after all. He supposes the little bird deserved someone more put together than him to be their mourner.

He stands there for a little while longer staring ahead into the birch trees before turning back to the path to walk home.

\---

The days following still find him within a dissociative state though he carries himself as though nothing is wrong. He seeks out distractions from his own thoughts any way he can. This means indulging in such things from one of Sniff's absurd money schemes to even asking his father for some literary recommendations, although an almost hour-length review and one-sided discussion on the metaphors within _20,000 Leagues Under the Sea_ was enough to reserve himself to wistful staring out his bedroom window instead.

This only leads his mind to the other type of thought he's been avoiding. Snufkin had seemingly packed up his tent this afternoon and wandered off into the forest without so much as a glance back. And though he knows this isn't goodbye his absence only adds to the weight sinking down his chest everyday.

When he comes back we'll go to the beach, or a hike to the mountains.

Their little discussion the other day had left his mind completely. Somewhere deep down he knows something is wrong, what was said wasn't right but why dwell on it when going back to normal was so pleasant? If he simply ran down to the bridge and acted as if nothing was off surely they would have a marvelous day of trivial fun, the sort that would streak his fur with mud or seawater and any thoughts about little birds or great aunts would not matter.

Or maybe he'd return with an adventure for them, one that would sweep them away from home to somewhere his dismal thoughts could be forgotten and lost. Snufkin is someone who's always looked at the world for what it is, Moomin knows this as he's usually the one to burst his bubble should Moomin fall prey against his own naivety towards the world. However he had never known Snufkin to mention thoughts like this, as if he had not yet become privy to these sorts of dangers either. Though he knows with the great distances he's travelled surely there must be something? Perhaps he'd ask him when he returns. Or maybe everyone already knows these things and it's not actually a big deal, maybe it's him who's just sensitive.

His thoughts are interrupted by loud banging on his door.

"Hurry! Or I'll be taking your share and you know I won't be sorry! Even if you're acting a sook."

Little My's interruption stirs him back to life, and he realizes he'd been staring blankly down at the river this whole time but once again not taking anything in.

\---

The following day Snufkin returns to his place next to the river and Moomin hurries down to see him. The previous night left him laying in bed for longer than he wishes to admit, and today he's decided he'll do anything to take his mind off it.

He's bent down by the fire arranging burnt out sticks and other bits but tilts his head up to look at Moomin walking across the bridge.

"Good morning Moomintroll" He says this with a small smile but looks down again straight after, returning to his stick arrangement.

"Morning" He says this with what he hopes is a normal tone but worries the following silence means today may not be so normal.

After a brief silence though he looks up to the troll his face now seemingly blank.

"Would you like to go somewhere today?"

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the existential dread and strained relationships zone


End file.
